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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24711808">A Terrible Idea</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cozy_socks29/pseuds/cozy_socks29'>cozy_socks29</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff and Angst, Post-Canon, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 11:08:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24711808</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cozy_socks29/pseuds/cozy_socks29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily and Spencer get stuck in quarantine together. There will be angst because these two have issues but there will also be fluff and hijinks and maybe even the admitting of non-platonic feelings for each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Emily Prentiss/Spencer Reid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ok please be nice I warned you guys in the summary. This is 100% born out of my boredom and obsession. Please comment if I’ve gotten anything wrong I’m going off of a summary of the last episode so any corrections are welcome.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After her breakup with Andrew Mendoza, Emily threw herself into work. While the director thing never panned out, she was still the BAU’s Unit Chief, and that had plenty of its own complications. In fact, she was honestly relieved that she hadn’t gotten the promotion. Did she mention she hates politics? Nevertheless, it is during one of her increasingly common late nights in the office when she hears the knock. Looking up from the paperwork, she sees Reid standing in the doorway, shifting his feet. She motions for him to open the door. He walks in with a curiously bashful look.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you still doing here, Reid?” She asks him, still contemplating his curious body language.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, technically you’re still here, so asking is actually a little…” he trails off, likely noticing her ‘not falling for this shit’ expression. He clears his throat, shoves his hands into his pockets and tries again.</p><p> </p><p>“Well I’m actually here to ask for a favor,” he says.</p><p> </p><p>She just keeps watching him. He takes a deep breath, and</p><p> </p><p>“Well you see it’s just that my landlord has gotten covid, and he notified me just a few hours ago but it turns out he was in my apartment yesterday while we were gone because my water heater needed fixing and you know how I’m a germaphobe so I can’t exactly go back but it’s 11:00 now and the hotels nearby are closed and J.J. isn’t answering her phone so really I’m just wondering if you would mind terribly if I slept on the couch in here tonight,” blurts out of his mouth before she can even blink.</p><p> </p><p>“Reid the couch in here is cramped even for me, and I’m a good 5 inches shorter than you. Look, I’ll finish this up and you can stay with me for a while, I’ve got an extra bedroom anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>She looks up at him and watches his expression go from ashamed to resigned to surprised to what was that? before he carefully wipes his face blank, arranging his features into a clear attempt at neutral skepticism. To be fair, he’s gotten better at this, at hiding his emotions. Most observers would see only what he wants them to see. However, there are two very important factors that explain why she’s so able to see both the relief and guilt in his expression. First, she’s a profiler. Reading people is literally her job. And second, he’s Reid. She’s known him for far too long to be fooled by his facade. </p><p> </p><p>She finishes up the paper on top of the stack, signing it with a flourish as she waits for him to voice the counter argument he’s currently putting together in his head. Then, she slides the files into her desk, grabs her bag, and stands up.</p><p> </p><p>“Look, Spencer. I’m honestly way too tired to argue with you right now. I promise, it’s not a big deal, you aren’t imposing. In fact, you disagreeing now would honestly be worse. C’mon, I’ll drive you. I assume you’ve got your go-bag?”</p><p> </p><p>He looks at her, likely studying her face and finding the exhaustion she’s unable to keep out anymore.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” he says, seeming to have decided that arguing isn’t worth it. She’s honestly so glad. She needs him to be at top capacity, keeping them all together, and she wasn’t lying about being tired. She grabs her stuff and walks out, meeting him by the elevator. She nearly falls asleep in the elevator, so when he offers to drive she barely puts up a fight, knowing he’s right as he rattles off the statistics about driving tired.</p><p> </p><p>When they get back to her place, she shows him the guest bedroom and he thanks her. She waves it off and heads into the master bedroom, barely awake enough to take off her clothes and pull on an old t-shirt before she climbs into bed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No idea if I’m going to continue this, this is just the start of some weird thing in my head. Sorry it’s short! Any comments are appreciated :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Huge thanks to anyone who read, liked, or commented on this! I’ve been convinced to keep this on AO3, and found myself writing this while attempting to be productive. Here’s chapter 2, hope you like it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s 2:27 AM when Emily jerks awake, crying. This has become a common occurrence. For a while there, with Mendoza, she was doing better. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> nightmares, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span> of them. Some nights, she was lucky enough to only have a single nightmare. Tonight, her brain seems to have added a new one to the mix. In addition to the usual nightmares about Doyle, Scratch, etc., she finds herself walking through a wasteland, with everyone she loves and everything she knows gone. Destroyed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She turns on the light. Her tears have dried on her cheeks, leaving her with the hiccup-sobs that accompany the end of a long, intense cry. Eventually, she leans over and grabs some tissues to wipe her face and blow her nose. Once the tissues have been deposited in the trash and the covers have been retucked under the mattress, she climbs back into her bed, phone in hand. She opens her phone and scrolls through her notifications. One catches her eye: “D.C. declares modified government operations and public school distance learning extended to April 27”. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The article was posted around nine on Friday, and she realizes with a start that </span>
  <em>
    <span>yesterday</span>
  </em>
  <span> was Friday. She isn’t surprised that she wasn’t aware of the days. Most of her work has been from home, with </span>
  <em>
    <span>essential employees only</span>
  </em>
  <span> and the entire office being able to work from home unless they’re assigned a case. Most of the work they’re doing is returning emails from concerned police departments, telling them that their cases don’t require the BAU. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When she’s read through the article, she sighs. She’s been doing overdue paperwork to keep her mind off of her (rather depressing, honestly) lack of a social life. But she has this selfish sort of hope that they will actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>go somewhere </span>
  </em>
  <span>and solve a case, because cases are really the best distraction. Unfortunately for her (but fortunately for the world, she hopes) she doubts any new cases will come up, especially with the extension of modified operations. Oh well.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At this point, knowing from experience that she won’t be able to get any more sleep, she heads into the kitchen and starts some coffee. It’s when the grinding of the beans gets loud that she hears a noise and turns around to find an unexpected intruder in her home. She swears, spinning and instinctively reaching for her gun before she realizes a few things. First, she’s just gotten up, and is wearing her pajamas, so no gun. Second, she does NOT want to shoot the perceived intruder, as he turns out to be Reid. He’s frozen now, hands over his head with a wide-eyed look. The events of last night come rushing back to her and she internally reprimands herself. What kind of agent </span>
  <em>
    <span>forgets</span>
  </em>
  <span> that they let someone into their house? The air is heavy with their silence, and she realizes she has to break it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...sorry, Reid,” she says at last, relaxing her stance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, no, I get it. I should have said something to let you know I was here.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks… bashful? He does realize she’s the one at fault here, right?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I’m just tired. Don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what are you doing up so early?” She asks him, leaning against the counter.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You, ah, woke me up,” he says, and she feels herself start to blush.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess I forgot how loud the coffeemaker is, sorry,” she apologizes, consciously trying to tamp down the heat in her cheeks. The coffeemaker dings to inform her of its completion, interrupting her train of thought. She turns around, pours herself a cup, and asks him if he wants some, or if he’s going back to bed. He glances at the clock. It’s nearly four, so they’d really only have a few hours to sleep. He shakes his head, reaching for the pot to pour his own cup.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sugar?” He asks, looking around her kitchen. She laughs, remembering how he takes his coffee (sugar and milk with a dash of coffee, really). He dumps a few tablespoons of sugar and pours milk into his coffee, handing it back to her when she’s done.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He follows her out of her kitchen to the living room, where they sit on the couch. He’s got a look on his face that screams ‘we need to talk’, so she waits for him to start. It takes him a minute or so, but eventually he drains the rest of his coffee, leaving the mug on her coffee table. He turns to face her. She looks at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, Emily, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that for me, and I’m really sorry about this morning. It’s clear that you like to have your personal space, and I’m sorry for making you feel like you had to let me stay. I’ll wait until a socially acceptable time, but I’m calling J.J. today to see if I can stay with her or make reservations for a hotel.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While Emily understands </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> Reid said perfectly well, she’s struggling to understand exactly why he thinks… all of that. She is an adult, and she is capable of making her own decisions, and she wishes Reid would understand that he didn’t force her to do anything. She rubs a hand over her face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Rei—Spencer, you don’t have to apologize. I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions. I chose to ask you to sleep here. I don’t regret it. In fact, I think it might be easiest if you stayed here until your apartment is ready,” she says, watching as he makes a vague noise of protest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Where the hell did that come from?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She was </span>
  <span>not</span>
  <span> planning to ask him to stay here. However, now that she thinks about it, it’s actually not the worst idea that’s ever come blurting out her mouth before her brain can process it. Well, she’s committed now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, but think about it. I promise it’s not a burden. I mean, for Christ’s sake Reid, you're my best friend,” He interrupts with a sputtering sound, opening his mouth to say god knows what. She doesn’t want to hear it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not looking for reciprocation, Spencer, I know you and J.J. are besties, just like Garcia and Morgan always will be. I don’t want to get between that. I’m just saying, you’re the person I’m closest to, and I’d like to help you out.” It’s true. She’s always known, pretty much from day one, that she’ll never quite reach the same level of friendship as them. It bothered her for a while, but she’s come to terms with it. Nevertheless, despite the truth of her statement, this can now be added to her list of ‘stupid unfiltered thoughts that have blurted out of my mouth’. She didn’t want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell </span>
  </em>
  <span>him that! Dear lord, how tired is she?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He seems to have come to the point at which he has composed himself well enough to argue in a way comprehensible to non-genius humans.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s actually not what I was going to say. You’re right about J.J. and I being close, but I would actually consider you my best friend. Honestly, she’s more like a sister to me than anything else, just like Morgan will forever be my brother.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm, didn’t J.J. confess her love for you?” Whoops! She also hadn’t exactly planned to say that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Get a grip, Prentiss!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kind of? I mean, yeah, but that whole situation was under duress, and she explained afterwards that it was more of a thing that could have happened in a different world. We never acted on it, and honestly, it would be pretty weird, for me at least,” he responds, hopefully too busy thinking about what he’s been saying to have noticed the odd comments coming from her, or the way she’s now pinching herself to wake up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” she says, a bit shell-shocked. “Okay.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They sit on her couch for an hour, until she persuades him that no, he wouldn’t be a burden, and yes, she wants him here. She finishes waking up sometime during this conversation, in part due to the caffeine, and in part the concentration required to convince Reid of anything (honestly, he’s the most stubborn genius she’s ever met). He finally concedes when he realizes he doesn’t really want to be in a hotel for two weeks, and J.J.’s house means Will and the kids. He loves them, of course, but two weeks is a long time. His one condition is that she doesn’t make coffee before 5 again. After she agrees, they refill their coffee and she makes more (they both need the caffeine). Then she puts on some TV, and they watch until they need to get ready to go. She drives him in to work, and is the only one who is pleasantly surprised when she hears that J.J. 's found them a case they need to actually take the jet and fly to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ok disclaimer here I have absolutely no idea how the BAU would work under quarantine, so I’m really kinda making stuff up here. Any suggestions or ideas would be welcome.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, this is a really short one, but I promise there’ll be more. There is a trigger warning for this chapter for an in-depth description of a depressive episode, so please don’t read if that’ll trigger you. (I’m not that great at trigger warnings but one of my friends is so I enlisted their help for this)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s another case that feels normal to the BAU. A psychopathic serial rapist and murderer who views women as objects. He started with hookers, but quickly escalated. They couldn’t stop him from killing his final victim, a 27 year old mother. The lead detective is especially broken up about it, he has a daughter the victim’s age. Reid, J.J. and herself end up in the room with him when he breaks down. He’s older, and she’s sure he’s seen worse, but she’s found that the job can hit you hardest when you least expect it. It’s her, not J.J., who ends up with her hand on his shoulder. She’s drained by the time they get back to DC. Comforting others always seems to suck her strength. Not that she lets it show. Emily is a master of both compartmentalization and controlling her expressions, after growing up surrounded by politics and leading the life she’s led. She’s surprised, then, when Reid follows her through the parking lot. Worried, at first, that he’s going to attempt to make her talk to him about it, she turns around with a sigh.</p><p> </p><p>Then, taking in his sheepish posture, she allows herself to be Emily Prentiss, Person, again. Dropping the ‘Agent Prentiss, Machine’ persona, she thinks back to <em> before </em> the case, remembering that she has a life. Ah, right. He’s staying with her for the next… 9 days now. It <em> was </em> 4 nights in Montana, right? She can’t actually be completely certain anymore, she slept all four nights, but only 4 or so hours each. Cases give her excuses to get away from the nightmares. ‘Agent Prentiss, Machine’ doesn’t <em> have </em> nightmares.</p><p> </p><p>So it is Emily who opens the trunk for Reid, Emily who drives him to her house. It is Emily because she can’t be Agent Prentiss or even Prentiss anymore. Because she’s exhausted and she knows pretending around Reid won’t work well. He, Rossi, and J.J. don’t fall for her bullshit anymore. (Which is both comforting and annoying as hell). Spencer seems to understand her need to fall apart alone, because once they get back, he simply thanks her and goes into the guest bedroom, closing the door with a quiet click. The light sounds of Bach (maybe Beethoven, she’s not a classical music expert) make their way into her ears, and she decides a shower is her best bet.</p><p> </p><p>The walls in her house are pitifully thin, she knows, so she turns the shower  up on high. Fairly certain this will mask the noise, she lets herself break down, sitting on the cold ceramic of her bathtub. She curls herself into a ball as the sobs wrench their way through her. When Emily lets herself break, she <em> breaks </em> . She’s still in a ball in her shower, the cooling water pounding her back when, almost an hour later, the tears subside. She feels absolutely and completely <em> wrong </em> for crying. She knows how many people have it worse than her, sees it firsthand after every case. She hasn’t <em> lost </em> anyone close to her. She’s alive. She has friends and a house and food and plenty of money and she doesn’t have to worry about being hurt. So it feels horrible, despicable, to let herself feel bad when she is so lucky. But she can’t help it. Can’t help that the sadness in all the cases always seems to seep into her when nobody is watching. Can’t help that the depression seems to always be just around the corner, waiting for her.  Can’t help the survivor’s guilt from creeping in, the hopelessness that stems from seeing so much death and sadness from digging it’s way into her. She’s learnt she can’t help it, can’t stop it. She knows she just has to let it flow through her. When it’s over, she feels empty and guilty and so, so tired.</p><p> </p><p>So, she does the natural thing. She dries herself off, washes the rest of the stubbornly clinging mascara away from her cheeks (nothing is <em> that </em> waterproof), slips on her old pajamas and gets into bed. The gentle strains of Reid’s orchestral music make their way into her bedroom, and she smiles, hoping that he’s having a better week than herself.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the shortness and the sadness, but I’m hoping to set up a base for light hearted hijinks later. Thank you for reading, kudos and especially comments make me so very happy, so don’t hesitate to do those things. (Seriously, I think if someone commented even just like a random word I would be irrationally happy and probably try to put it in the next chapter) Feedback is always welcome and have a great week :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Reid pops in to give his thoughts.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It’s been so long since I last updated this and for that I am very sorry. It’s been a long month, and somehow not having homework to do seems to make it difficult for me to write. Too much boredom I guess. (Side note: Huge thank you to NotaDroid (mjonhunt) for keeping me sane with the plethora of works they’ve posted recently.) This chapter is pretty short, and rather unplanned to be honest. I was planning to write this entire story from Emily’s POV but Reid just sat in my head insisting to be heard. The rest should be Emily for a while, unless people want more Reid or he decides to hang out in my head again. I haven’t asked my beta to read this over for me (really they aren’t technically beta‘ing this work), so I apologize for any mistakes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Spencer is having the strangest week he can remember ever having. And, because of his aptitude in remembering things, this means he can safely say that this has been the weirdest week he’s ever had. First his landlord got COVID 19, then he had to ask <em> Emily </em> to let him stay over. (Okay, not really, she invited him, but still.) </p><p> </p><p>Then, he wakes up at 2:15 at her house and hears her screams. First, he gets out of bed (yes, he’s proud to say he did bring his gun, junior g-man is junior no more) and walks to her room. When he peeks in, however, he realizes that she’s sleeping. Or, more accurately, trying to. Her eyes are closed and her hair is spread out in the pillow, and it would be peaceful if not for her expression. </p><p> </p><p>She looks terrified. Honestly, he’s only ever seen her this scared a few times. She’s not screaming anymore, just sobbing loudly. He considers going in, waking her up, hugging her and telling her everything is alright, that it’s just a dream. It’s what he always wishes someone would do for him. However, Emily isn’t him. She’s a lot better at hiding her emotions, for one, and she values privacy and composure at a rate that was rivaled only by Hotch. So, he decides she will let him in when she’s ready, and he leaves. It kills him, seeing her in so much pain and not trying to make it better. But he does it, he leaves, and he gives her the time to clean up before heading to the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>She jumps, and he almost worries he’ll be injured, but she stops herself. He lets her think the coffee maker woke him up. They drink coffee together, giving up on sleep. It’s after this that she somehow manages to convince him to stay at her house for the two weeks until he can go back to his apartment. Honestly, he’s still not sure how she did it. Telling him she views him as a best friend definitely didn’t hurt her persuasion tactics any. It’s always nice to know that you aren’t the only one who cares for the other in any relationship.</p><p> </p><p>After that, they go on a case. The case wasn’t weird, thank goodness, but working on it with their masks and everything was. When just the team is together, they’ve been forgoing masks and distancing (he knows it’s not smart but Rossi just laughed when he suggested it). They all consider themselves family, and it’s not unusual for them to end up in each other's hotel rooms at night discussing the cases. So the whole case was drenched in a layer of weird in that way. Then, when they get home, and he goes home with Emily, she avoids his gaze, and rushes to get privacy. It is her house, and he is invading, so that makes sense, in some way. But it’s not that she seems to want alone time, it’s the way she seems like she’s faking it. Faking being okay, faking not needing help. He knows what that looks like because that’s been him so many times. So he’s ready to press the issue with her, to try and be there for her, as she has been for him, but just as he gathers the courage and leaves the guest bedroom, the shower turns on. Yeah, okay, maybe he’ll confront her later.</p><p> </p><p>So really, his whole week has been basked in surrealism in two ways. First, the <em> global pandemic </em>, and second, Emily Prentiss being, well, broken. She’s the unit chief, and he’s grown used to her holding them together. It feels wrong to know how much she’s been struggling, like an invasion of her privacy.</p><p> </p><p>So you couldn’t say he was expecting it, but he honestly wasn't surprised by the absurdity of it all when he is sitting at the breakfast table with Emily the next morning and she gets the call. She answers it as Agent Prentiss, and he can hear only her end of the conversation. It’s a lot of yes, okay, and correct answers to whomever is on the other end. He raises an eyebrow at her when her expression falls grim. </p><p>”Yes ma’am,” she says, and hangs up.</p><p>“If you don’t mind me asking, what was that?”</p><p>“Well, it appears that we’ve all been exposed to coronavirus. We have a mandatory two week quarantine leave period starting today.” Did he just hear her correctly? He can’t come up with a reasonable answer, so he just nods as she calls everyone else. When she hangs up the last call, she lets out a heavy sigh. Well, his week just got a whole lot weirder.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yeah so this was mostly a plot device but also my beta said something the other day about how readers can’t like, read my mind, and I realized that I hadn’t actually explicitly shown that Reid absolutely knows what’s going on with Emily, despite it being clear in my head from the beginning. So, now you know. Anyway this was mostly where the plot in my head went, the rest I’m sure will come to me, most likely when I’m trying to get my calc 2 homework done. (Who gives homework in JULY?? The institution I’m taking calculus from, apparently.) Right so the point is, if you have any comments I would greatly appreciate any suggestions and can pretty much work anything in now. Thanks for reading, all kudos/comments are greatly appreciated, criticism or random comments as well.</p>
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